HYMN LXII. Soma Pavamana.
THESE rapid Soma-drops have been poured through the purifying sieve
To bring us all felicities.
Dispelling manifold mishap, giving the courser's progeny,
Yea, and the warrior steed, success.
Bringing prosperity to kine, they make perpetual Ila flow
To us for noble eulogy.
Strong, mountain-born, the stalk hath been
pressed in the streams for rapturous joy:
Hawk-like he settles in his home.
Fair is the God-loved juice; the plant is washed in waters, pressed by men
The milch-kine sweeten it with milk.
As drivers deck a courser, so have they adorned the meath's juice for
Ambrosia, for the festival.
Thou, Indu, with thy streams that drop sweet juices, which were poured for
Hast settled in the cleansing sieve.
So flow thou onward through the fleece, for Indra flow, to be his drink,
Finding thine home in vats of wood.
As giving room and freedom, as most sweet, pour butter forth and milk,
O Indu, for the Angirases.
Most active and benevolent, this Pavamana, sent to us
For lofty friendship, meditates.
Queller of curses, mighty, with strong sway, this Pavamana shall
Bring treasures to the worshipper.
Pour thou upon us thousandfold possessions, both of kine and steeds,
Exceeding glorious, much-desired.
Wandering far, with wise designs, the juice here present is effused,
Made beautiful by living men.
For Indra flows the gladdening drink, the measurer of the region, Sage,
With countless wealth and endless help.
Born on the mountain, lauded here, Indu for Indra is set down,
As in her sheltering nest a bird.
Pressed by the men, as 'twere to war hath Soma Pavamana sped,
To test with might within the vats.
That he may move, they yoke him to the three-backed triple-seated car
By the Seven Rsis' holy songs.
Drive ye that Tawny Courser, O ye pressers, on his way to war,
Swift Steed who carries off the spoil.
Pouring all glories hither, he, effused and entering the jar,
Stands like a hero mid the kine.
Indu, the living men milk out the juice to make the rapturous draught:
Gods for the Gods milk out the meath.
Pour for the Gods into the sieve our Soma very rich in sweets,
Him whom the Gods most gladly hear.
Into his stream who gladdens best these Soma juices have been poured,
Lauded with songs for lofty fame.
Thou flowest to enjoy the milk, and bringest valour, being cleansed:
Winning the spoil flow hitherward.
And, hymned by Jamadagnis, let all nourishment that kine supply,
And general praises, flow to us.
Soma, as leader of the song flow onward with thy wondrous aids,
For holy lore of every kind.
Do thou as leader of the song, stirring the waters of the sea,
Flow onward, thou who movest all.
O Soma, O thou Sage, these worlds stand ready to attest thy might:
For thy behoof the rivers flow.
Like showers of rain that fall from heaven thy streams perpetually flow
To the bright fleece spread under them.
For potent Indra purify Indu effectual and strong,
Enjoyment-giver, Mighty Lord.
Soma, true, Pavamana, Sage, is seated in the cleansing sieve,
Giving his praiser hero strength.
HYMN LXIII. Soma Pavanana.
POUR hitherward, O Soma, wealth in thousands and heroic strength,
And keep renown secure for us.
Thou makest food and vigour swell for Indra, best of gladdeners!
Within the cups thou seatest thee.
For Indra and for Visnu poured, Soma hath flowed into the jar:
May Vayu find it rich in sweets.
These Somas swift and brown of hue, in stream of solemn sacrifice
Have flowed through twisted obstacles,
Performing every noble work, active, augmenting Indra's strength,
Driving away the godless ones.
Brown Soma-drops, effused that seek Indra, to their appropriate place
Flow through the region hitherward.
Flow onward with that stream of thine wherewith thou gavest Surya light,
Urging on waters good to men.
He, Pavamana, high o'er man yoked the Sun's courser Etasa
To travel through the realm of air.
And those ten Coursers, tawny-hued, he harnessed that the Sun might come
Indu, he said, is Indra's self.
Hence, singers, pour the gladdening juice to Vayu and to Indra, pour
The drops upon the fleecy cloth.
O Soma Pavamana, find wealth for us not to be assailed,
Wealth which the foeman may not win.
Send riches hither with thy stream in thousands, both of steeds and kine,
Send spoil of war and high renown.
Soma the God, expressed with stones, like Surya, floweth on his way,
Pouring the juice within the jar.
These brilliant drops have poured for us, in stream of solemn sacrifice,
Worshipful laws and strength in kine.
Over the cleansing sieve have flowed the Somas, blent with curdled milk,
Effused for Indra Thunder-armed.
Soma, do thou most rich in sweets, a gladdening drink most dear to Gods,
Flow to the sieve to bring us wealth.
For Indra, living men adorn the Tawny Courser in the streams, Indu, the giver
Pour for us, Soma, wealth in gold, in horses and heroic sons,
Bring hither strength in herds of kine.
For Indra pour ye on the fleece him very sweet to taste, who longs.
For battle as it were in war.
The singers, seeking help, adorn the Sage who must be decked with songs:
Loud bellowing the Steer comes on,
The singers with their thoughts and hymns have, in the stream of sacrifice,
Caused Soma, active Steer, to roar.
God, working with mankind, flow on; to Indra go thy gladdening juice:
To Vayu mount as Law commands
O Soma, Pavamana, thou pourest out wealth that brings renown:
Enter the lake, as one we love.
Soma thou flowest chasing foes and bringing wisdom and delight:
Drive off the folk who love not Gods.
The Pavamanas have been poured, the brilliant drops of Soma juice,
For holy lore of every kind.
The Pavamanas have been shed, the beautiful swift Soma-drops,
Driving all enemies afar.
From, heaven, from out the firmament, hath Pavamana been effused
Upon the summit of the earth.
O Soma, Indu, very wise, drive, being purified, with thy stream
All foes, all Raksasas away.
Driving the Raksasas afar, O Soma, bellowing, pour for us
Most excellent and splendid strength.
Soma, do thou secure for us the treasures of the earth and heaven,
Indu, all boons to be desired.
HYMN LXIV. Soma Pavamana.
Soma, thou art a splendid Steer, a Steer, O God, with steerlike sway:
Thou as a Steer ordainest laws.
Steer-strong thy might is as a steer's, steerstrong thy wood, steer-like thy
A Steer indeed, O Steer, art thou.
Thou, Indu, as a vigorous horse, hast neighed together steeds and kine:
Unbar for us the doors to wealth.
Out of desire of cows and steeds and horses. potent Soma-drops,
Brilliant and swift, have been effused.
They purified in both the hands, made beautiful by holy men,
Flow onward to the fleecy cloth.
These Soma juices shall pour forth all treasures for the worshipper
From heaven and earth and firmament.
The streams of Pavamana, thine, Finder of all, have been effused,
Even as Surya's rays of light.
Making the light that shines from heaven thou flowest on to every form
Soma, thou swellest like a sea.
Urged on thou sendest out thy voice, O Pavamana; thou hast moved,
Like the God Surya, to the sieve.
Indu, Enlightener, Friend, hath been purified by the sages' hymns:
So starts the charioteer his steed-
Thy God-delighting wave which hath flowed to purifying seive [sic],
Alighting in the home of Law.
Flow to our sieve, a gladdening draught that hath most intercourse with Gods,
Indu, to Indra for his drink.
Flow onward with a stream for food, made beautiful by sapient men:
Indu with sheen approach the milk.
While thou art cleansed, Song-Lover, bring comfort and vigour to the folk,
Poured, Tawny One! on milk and curds.
Purified for the feast of Gods, go thou to Indra's special place,
Resplendent, guided by the strong.
Accelerated by the hymn, the rapid drops of Soma juice
Have flowed, urged onward, to the lake.
Easily have the living drops, made beautiful, approached the lake,
Yea, to the place of sacrifice.
Compass about, our faithful Friend, all our possessions with thy might:
Guard, hero like, our sheltering home.
Loud neighs the Courser Etasa, with singers, harnessed for the place,
Guided for travel to the lake.
What time the Swift One resteth in the golden place of sacrifice,
He leaves the foolish far away.
The friends have sung in unison, the prudent wish to sacrifice:
Down sink the unintelligent.
For Indra girt by Maruts, flow, thou Indu, very rich in sweets,
To sit in place of sacrifice.
Controlling priests and sages skilled in holy song adorn thee well:
The living make thee beautiful.
Aryaman, Mitra, Varuna drink Pavamana's juice, yea, thine:
O Sage, the Maruts drink thereof.
O Soma, Indu, thou while thou art purified urgest onward speech.
Thousandfold, with the lore of hymns.
Yea, Soma, Indu, while thou art purified do thou bring to us
Speech thousandfold that longs for war.
O Indu, Much-invoked, while thou art purifying, as the Friend.
Of these men enter thou the lake.
Bright are these Somas blent with milk, with light that flashes brilliantly.
And form that utters loud acclaim.
Led by his drivers, and sent forth, the Strong Steed hath come nigh for
Like warriors when they stand arrayed.
Specially, Soma, coming as a Sage from heaven to prosper us,
Flow like the Sun for us to see.
HYMN LXV. Soma Pavamana.
THE, glittering maids send Sura forth, the glorious sisters, close-allied,
Send Indu forth, their mighty Lord.
Pervade, O Pavamana, all our treasures with repeated light,
God, coming hither from the Gods.
Pour on us, Pavamana, rain, as service and rain praise for Gods:
Pour all to be our nourishment.
Thou art a Steer by lustre: we, O Pavamana, faithfully
Call upon thee the Splendid One.
Do thou, rejoicing, nobly-armed! pour upon us heroic strength:
O Indu, come thou hitherward.
When thou art cleansed with both the hands and dipped in waters, with the
Thou comest to the gathering-place.
Sing forth your songs, as Vyasva sang, to Soma Pavamana, to,
The Mighty One with thousand eyes;
Whose coloured sap they drive with stones, the yellow meath-distilling juice,
Indu for Indra, for his drink.
We seek to gain the friendly love of thee that Strong and Mighty One,
Of thee the winner of all wealth.
Flow onward with thy stream, a Steer, inspiriting the Maruts' Lord,
Winning all riches by thy might.
I send thee forth to battle from the press, O Pavamana, Strong,
Sustainer, looker on the light.
Acknowledged by this song of mine, flow, tawny-coloured, with thy stream
Incite to battle thine ally.
O Indu, visible to all pour out for us abundant food:
Soma, be thou our prosperer.
The pitchers, Indu, with thy streams have sung aloud in vigorous might
Enter them, and let Indra drink.
O thou whose potent gladdening juice they milk out with the stones, flow on,
Destroyer of our enemies.
King Pavamana is implored with holy songs, on man's behalf,
To travel through the firmament.
Bring us, O Indu, hundredfold increase of kine, and noble steeds,
The gift of fortune for our help.
Pressed for the banquet of the Gods, O Soma, bring us might, and speed,
Like beauty for a brilliant show.
Soma, flow on exceeding bright with loud roar to the wooden vats,
Falcon-like resting in thine home.
Soma, the Water-winner flows to Indra, Vayu, Varuna,
To Visnu and the Marut host.
Soma , bestowing food upon our progeny, from every sides,
Pour on us riches thousandfold
The Soma juices which have been expressed afar or near at hand,
Or there on Saryanavan's bank,
Those pressed among Arjikas, pressed among the active, in men's homes,
Or pressed among the Races Five-
May these celestial drops, expressed, pour forth upon us, as they flow,
Rain from the heavens and hero strength.
Urged forward o'er the ox-hide flows the Lovely One of tawny hue,
Lauded by Jamadagni's song.
Like horses urged to speed, the drops, bright, stirring vital power, when
With milk, are beautified in streams.
So they who toil with juices send thee forward for the Gods' repast:
So with this splendour flow thou on.
We choose to-day that chariot-steed of thine, the Strong, that brings us
The Guardian, the desire of all,
The Excellent, the Gladdener, the Sage with heart that understands,
The Guardian, the desire of all;
Who for ourselves, O thou Most Wise, is wealth and fair intelligence,
The Guardian, the desire of all.
HYMN LXVI. Soma Pavamana.
FOR holy lore of every sort, flow onward thou whom all men love.
A Friend to be besought by friends.
O'er all thou rulest with these Two which, Soma Pavamana, stand,
Turned, as thy stations, hitherward.
Wise Soma Pavamana, thou encompassest on every side
Thy stations as the seasons come.
Flow onward, generating food, for precious boons of every kind,
A Friend for friends, to be our help.
Upon the lofty ridge of heaven thy bright rays with their essences,
Soma, spread purifying power.
O Soma, these Seven Rivers flow, as being thine, to give command:
The Streams of milk run forth to thee.
Flow onward, Soma in a stream, effused to gladden Indra's heart,
Bringing imperishable fame.
Driving thee in Vivasvan's course, the Seven Sisters with their hymns
Made melody round thee the Sage.
The virgins deck thee o'er fresh streams to drive thee to the sieve when thou,
A singer, bathest in the wood.
The streams of Pavamana, thine, Sage, Mighty One, have poured them forth.
Like coursers eager for renown.
They have been poured upon the fleece towards the meath-distilling vat:
The holy songs have sounded forth.
Like milch-kine coming home, the drops of Soma juice have reached the lake,
Have reached the place of sacrifice.
O Indu, to our great delight the running waters flow to us,
When thou wilt robe thyself in milk.
In this thy friendship, and with thee to help us, fain to sacrifice,
Indu, we crave thy friendly love.
Flow on, O Soma, for the great Viewer of men, for gain of Idne [sic]
Enter thou into Indra's throat.
Best art thou, Soma, of the great, Strongest of strong ones, Indu: thou
As Warrior ever hast prevailed.
Mightier even than the strong, more valiant even than the brave,
More liberal than the bountiful,
Soma, as Sura, bring us food, win offspring of our bodies: we
Elect thee for our friendship, we elect thee for companionship.
Agni, thou pourest life; send down upon us food and vigorous strength;
Drive thou misfortune far away,
Agni is Pavamana, Sage, Chief Priest of all the Races Five:
To him whose wealth is great we pray.
Skilled in thy task, O Agni, pour splendour with hero strength on us,
Granting me wealth that nourishes.
Beyond his enemies away to sweet praise Pavamana flows,
Like Surya visible to all.
Adorned by living men, set forth for entertainment, rich in food,
Far-sighted Indu is a Steed.
He, Pavamana, hath produced the lofty Law, the brilliant light,
Destroying darkness black of hue.
From tawny Pavamana, the Destroyer, radiant streams have sprung,
Quick streams from him whose gleams are swift.
Best rider of the chariot, praised with fairest praise mid beauteous ones,
Gold-gleaming with the Marut host,
May Pavamana, best to win the booty, penetrate with rays,
Giving the singer hero strength.
Over the fleecy sieve hath flowed the drop effused: to Indra comes
Indu while he is purified
This Soma, through the pressing-stones, is sporting on the oxhide, and
Summoning Indra to the draught.
O Pavamana, bless us, so that we may live, with that bright milk
Of thine which hath been brought from heaven.
HYMN LXVII. Soma and Others.
THOU, Soma, hast a running stream, joyous, most strong at sacrifice:
Flow bounteously bestowing wealth.
Effused as cheerer of the men, flowing best gladdener, thou art
A Prince to Indra with thy juice.
Poured forth by pressing-stones, do thou with loud roar send us in a stream
Most excellent illustrious might.
Indu, urged forward, floweth through the fleecy cloth: the Tawny One
With his loud roar hath brought as strength.
Indu, thou flowest through the fleece, bringing felicities and fame,
And, Soma, spoil and wealth in kine.
Hither, O Indu, bring us wealth in steeds and cattle hundredfold:
Bring wealth, O Soma, thousandfold.
In purifying, through the sieve the rapid drops of Soma juice
Come nigh to Indra in their course.
For Indra floweth excellent Indu, the noblest Soma juice
The Living for the Living One.
The glittering maids send Sura forth they with their song have sung aloud
To Pavamana dropping meath.
May Pusan, drawn by goats, be our protector, and on all his paths
Bestow on us our share of maids.
This Soma flows like gladdening oil for him who wears the braided locks:
He shall give us our share of maids.
This Soma juice, O glowing God, flows like pure oil, effused for thee:
He shall give us our share of maids.
Flow onward, Soma, in thy stream, begetter of the sages' speech:
Wealth-giver among Gods art thou.
The Falcon dips within the jars: he wrap.him in his robe and goes
Loud roaring to the vats of wood.
Soma, thy juice hath been effused and poured into the pitcher: like
A rapid hawk it rushes on.
For Indra flow most rich in sweets, O Soma, bringing him delight.
They were sent forth to feast the Gods, like chariots that display their
Brilliant, best givers of delight, these juices have sent Vayu forth.
Bruised by the press-stones and extolled, Soma, thou goest to the sieve,
Giving the worshipper hero strength.
This juice bruised by the pressing-stones and lauded passes through the
Slayer of demons, through the fleece.
O Pavamana, drive away the danger, whether near at hand
Or far remote, that finds me here.
This day may Pavamana cleanse us with his purifying power,
Most active purifying Priest.
O Agni, with the cleansing light diffused through all thy fiery glow,
Purify thou this prayer of ours.
Cleanse us with thine own cleansing power, O Agni, that is bright with flame,
And by libations poured to thee.
Savitar, God, by both of these, libation, purifying power,
Purify me on every side.
Cleanse us, God Savitar, with Three, O Soma, with sublimest forms,
Agni, with forms of power and might.
May the Gods' company make me clean, and Vasus make rue pure by song.
Purify me, ye General Gods; O Jatavedas, make me pure.
Fill thyself full of juice, flow forth, O Soma, thou with all thy stalks,
The best oblation to the Gods.
We with our homage have approached the Friend who seeks our wondering praise,
Young, strengthener of the solemn rite.
Lost is Alayya's axe. O Soma, God do thou send it back hither in thy flow
Even, Soma, God, if 'twere a mole.
The man who reads the essence stored by saints, the Pavamani hymns,
Tastes food completely purified, made sweet by Matarisvan's touch.
Whoever reads the essence stored by saints, the Pavamani hymns,
Sarasvati draws forth for him water and butter, milk and meath.
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